Sharpened Poems - Poems about Sharpened

Triology - Part 1

...Crowned In Fire - A path Observed 

A boy was born to broken street,
Where hunger dressed defeat as sweet.
A thousand flags above him flew,
But none he felt were just or true.

The victors san...

The Boy who stayed

...He stared at the ceiling - breath held tight,
The world moved on; he lost his fight.
No trophies won, no hands to hold,
Just fading hopes and dreams gone cold.

They mocked,
"You had your one b...

Slanderella

...
She came down screaming, cloaked in flame,  
A bolt of spite, no soul to tame.  
From hilltop high she cast her spell—  
The art of slander, taught too well.  

They built her shrines in whisp...

Synthetic Beauty

...I saw Bianca.
One glance, and the eyes might believe she was a queen,
but her beauty was borrowed —
purchased in pieces, stitched together with coins and illusions.

Her hair, long and flowing,
...

HUMANITY’S WASTE

...Another morning drowned in the tar of nightmares,
Where hope commits suicide at the tip of a deceitful syringe.
Demons scream insults, eyes stab like blades,
And smiles are but traps with finely s...

The boy who wasn’t picked

...He sits in the back.
Not because he wants to—
but because he’s tired
of being picked last
when he dares to show up at all.

You don’t see him.
Not really.
He’s there, though—
in the bathroom...

Gaza's Mothers

...

In Gaza, the mothers don’t sleep, waiting in darkness, listening to the sky that’s been raining death  -- nothing to inspire a fairy-tale to lull their children to sleep, their ears sharpened to ...

Gotcha!

...Tingly skies full of surprise oh how I love when I surmise,
 the little rascal aims his dart as if it were, poetic art!

Nobody knows where it might hit, but rest assured, in seconds split,
 that...

Each Obituary I Read is Mine

...a curtal sonnet

Each obituary I read is mine;
husband, wife, son and daughter abide where 
the records of their lives do still exist;
motality belongs to time's design,
stitching out ...

The Gaza’s Stolen Childhood

...Every forty-five minutes, thirty children vanish—
not into memory, but into blood and rubble.
The soil of Gaza drinks the tears of mothers,
while those in power sip wine behind closed doors.

Th...

To the Crown Prince

...O brilliant son of the desert,
You rose through the maze of your House
With precision sharper than a blade.
The future trembles beneath your feet—
But power, untempered by wisdom,
Is a fire that...

marionette of grief

...
They birthed me in a house of screams, Where shadows stitched my fevered dreams— No lullaby, no gentle womb, Just rusted chains and cradle's tomb.
A mother’s voice? A serpent's hiss. A father's to...

Winter Withers

...Winter Withers

…… its way into the woods
and waits….and wonders….and watches
until…. No-one is looking.
Boorishly, an ally introduces itself,
an iced-sliced wind to quiver-shiver
the woods’ m...

Shards Of Singularity

...

Blunt sense sharpened by subtle trance
lacerates the languishing psyche
that doesn’t slink,
unwary of mortal deception.
The shards of singularity 
transfigure in a blink
into passion potion...

A Cry the World Chose Not to Hear

...When Life became too heavy,
People grew harsher,
their words sharpened into wounds,
their silence burned like fire.

When I finally broke,
and Help knocked on my door,
the world turned away,
...

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